


forward, together

by lvllns



Series: what can one grey warden do? [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: 50 Sentences, F/M, fluff and romance and good things with like two sentences of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 16:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvllns/pseuds/lvllns
Summary: Zevran and Isseya in 50 sentences.





	forward, together

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Build a Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/259762) by [loquaciousquark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loquaciousquark/pseuds/loquaciousquark). 



> i got stuck on the latest chapter of rare is this love and remembered a gorgeous work loquaciousquark wrote for fenhawke and decided to try to break the writer's block with 50 sentences for isseya and zevran. i'm pretty damn proud of how this turned out.

**1 — Air**

Gasping against his collarbone, she shudders while her fingers grasp blindly at his back, trying in vain to find purchase on sweat slick skin; his breath against the side of her face is a ragged thing, brief before his teeth sink into the skin of her throat.

**2 — Apples**

The sharp twang of her bowstring snaps the silence as she looses an arrow, the red fruit that had been sitting atop his head pinned neatly to the tree at his back.

**3 — Beginning**

At her feet in a pool of his own blood lies her would be assassin and she laughs; when he climbs to his feet to dip into a bow she can’t help but think that she’s just created a world of trouble for herself.

**4 — Bugs**

“It's always fucking spiders,” growling as she spins, firing twice in rapid succession to catch the largest one in the abdomen; Zevran takes the opportunity to drag both daggers through its body.

**5 — Coffee**

“You only had one sip _amora_ ,” he looks amused as she fidgets on the couch in their bedroom, eyes wide and leg bouncing erratically; it takes four hours for her to calm down enough to speak without running her words together in one breath.

**6 — Dark**

He is not by her side when she wakes, the Deep Roads pressing in around her.

**7 — Despair**

One of them is going to die to save the world and it cannot be the future King of Ferelden so she heads to her room, blinking back tears; she does not know how she will tell him.

**8 — Doors**

She imagines the rest of the party members are grateful for something solid they can shut behind them when she takes Zevran by the hand and drags him up the stairs to their room.

**9 — Drink**

“Oh that is foul _ma vhenan_ ,” eyes watering she shoves the bottle back into his hands as his laughter fills the air; “You’re a filthy liar, that’s not your precious brandy at all.”

**10 — Duty**

She is preparing to die when Morrigan offers her a choice; leaving Alistair in his room with the witch makes something burn behind her ribs.

**11 — Earth**

No matter how much time has passed, when he inhales against the skin of her neck she always smells like pine trees and sap and something bright that makes his heart skip a few beats.

**12 — End**

She turns down his earring.

**13 — Fall**

Gentle hands wrap a scarf around his neck, tucking the ends together before she leans up to kiss his cheek; “I know you cannot handle the growing cold _vhenan_ , stay warm.”

**14 — Fire**

He teaches her Wicked Grace while they should be keeping watch; she cheats almost immediately.

**15 — Flexible**

He presses against her, bending over her body with one of her legs hooked over his shoulder as one hand grips her wrists, pressing them into the bed above her head; later, with sweat just beginning to dry on their bodies, he lays atop her and she wraps her legs firmly around his back, hooking her ankles together while she drags fingers through her hair.

**16 — Flying**

Denerim is blanketed in shadow, a scream shattering the air as the Archdemon sweeps overhead and she swallows hard, they could very well die and she turns to say something, anything, to the assassin at her side but he silences her with a kiss.

**17 — Food**

One can only take Alistair’s cooking for so long; she bags a ram and Zevran acquires a variety of vegetables and spices and they roast everything over an open flame; it’s the most delicious thing any of them have eaten in weeks.

**18 — Foot**

“You remembered,” her voice is rough, eyes watering as she clutches the new footwraps in her hands, looking up to find him blushing; “Of course I did _amora_ , of course I did.”

**19 — Grave**

Tamlen rests beneath a sapling.

**20 — Green**

“If you get a fancy new outfit, I want one too,” she had been so petulant when she spoke — chin tilted up and eyes narrowed — but he went out and found her a fucking cape that reminds her of aravels and halla and tall trees; it isn’t until later that she remembers the brief mention days ago of a Dalish vendor just outside the city.

**21 — Head**

She does not get on her knees for anyone except him.

**22 — Hollow**

There’s a distance between them now, something that cleans out the spot behind her ribs that he’d taken for himself, and she wonders if she should have just accepted the damn earring.

**23 — Honor**

The apartment in Antiva has become home to them, a place they return to after their travels are done pulling them away, so she sets up a small altar to Falon’din and leaves owl feathers and chunks of obsidian and she explains to Zevran what this means to her.

**24 — Hope**

Morrigan writes and they leave Rivain to head back to Soldier’s Peak; she is so close she can taste it.

**25 — Light**

With a yawn she rolls over, finding the space next to her empty; her brow furrows until she flips back over and finds Zevran looking out the window, watching the sunrise.

**26 — Lost**

She stumbles after Duncan, tripping over roots and rocks, her mind elsewhere as the Taint thunders through her veins.

**27 — Metal**

She takes his earring the second time.

**28 — New**

The gloves are beautiful, hand stitched and smelling of leather, and she has that sweet smile on her face when he pulls them on.

**29 — Old**

Her fingers brush the wrinkles at the corner of his eye, a fond smile on her face; he kisses the laughter lines around her mouth and thanks the Maker for the time they’ve been given.

**30 — Peace**

Denerim is celebrating the end of the Blight but she can only think about how nothing calm can last, something will ripple the waters eventually; Zevran takes her hand, lacing their fingers together and she allows herself to breathe, there is time to enjoy what they have been given.

**31 — Poison**

“You are utterly hopeless,” he’s teasing her and she shoves his shoulder, setting the glass flask down next to the deathroot; “It’s not my fault this is so complicated,” she whines as he snorts, wrapping his arms around her.

**32 — Pretty**

The braided leather around his left wrist is plain and worn but it still makes his breath hitch every time he looks at it.

**33 — Rain**

Soaking wet and shivering she bursts through the door of their apartment in Antiva, laughing when he yells about getting water on the floor from the other room.

**34 — Regret**

When they visit Alistair, the crown sits atop his head like it belongs there and she feels something that had been settled tightly around her heart ease.

**35 — Roses**

Bright red blooms wind up the walls of the buildings next to them but she hardly pays them any mind as they walk down the street hand in hand.

**36 — Secret**

Others cannot know what she has found, writing risks revealing the knowledge so she visits her Wardens in person; Zevran travels with her, always at her side, never seeing her go alone when he can follow.

**37 — Snakes**

Venomous is the best way she can think to describe the nobility, they posture and hiss and bite and she adds herself to Zevran’s offer of assassinating anyone Alistair might deem worthy.

**38 — Snow**

Ferelden greets them with a soft blanket when they return; they spend hours throwing snowballs at each other until their fingers are numb and their clothes are soaked.

**39 — Solid**

His chest against her back grounds her, gives her something to lean on while she chases away the remnants of a nightmare with thoughts of a brighter future.

**40 — Spring**

Years of training, of honing her talents and practicing until blood caused her fingers to slip from her bow, allows her to push off the ground with ease, leaping into the air as she releases an arrow at the genlock heading for Zevran.

**41 — Stable**

She tells him late one night — _ma vhenan, my heart_ — and he’s never had the ground kicked out from beneath his feet so swiftly.

**42 — Strange**

Every morning he wakes to her curled up against him with her small hand holding his and every morning he has to remind himself that this is not a dream.

**43 — Summer**

The rain and the heat mix to create oppressive humidity that forces her to sprawl naked on their bed; he finds her later, when he comes home from the market, and she is sleeping so peacefully he almost regrets waking her with a kiss.

**44 — Taboo**

Armed elves always draw attention, especially very well armed elves and even more so when one is Dalish.

**45 — Ugly**

The scar splits her face, winding from the left side of her jaw across her cheek to the bridge of her nose, and even after years to heal and fade she cannot stop the wrinkle of her nose when she catches sight of it; later he will press his lips to it as he whispers the depths of his love against her skin.

**46 — War**

Templars and mages fight and they take care to use the chaos to keep themselves hidden and avoid any Inquisition scouts; she has not come this far only to be found on a slip up, not when she is so close to curing what blackens her veins.

**47 — Water**

He throws her into the lake just as he did so many years ago in Redcliffe and his heart swells when she breaks the surface with a smile on her face and a promise in her eyes.

**48 — Welcome**

Amaranthine is far, far behind her as she races off the ship and leaps into his arms.

**49 — Winter**

“I love you,” he says it so easily these days, so frequently, but it never fails to take her breath away and before she can react he’s pressing a kiss to her temple as he pulls the blanket tighter around them to ward off the chill.

**50 — Wood**

It’s such a nondescript box that she had thought nothing of it when she had seen it sitting on the table a few days ago, now however — now the box is everything, cracked open to reveal a thin silver band with a small bright green stone and he is on one knee in front of her and she cannot breathe and —

“Marry me _amora_?”

**Author's Note:**

> translations:  
> amora - love  
> ma vhenan/vhenan - my heart/heart
> 
> y'all can find me @ lvllns.tumblr.com <3


End file.
